


Unrequited

by emberday



Category: Jack the Giant Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 16:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emberday/pseuds/emberday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had always been told to distance myself emotionally from her. I had always been told that it could never happen – mostly by my father. I had always been told that the law stated, no matter what or who her feelings were directed at, she must marry someone of noble blood. And I knew that they were right. So, though I was her guard, I kept my personal feelings just that. Personal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

1  
I had always been told to distance myself emotionally from her. I had always been told that it could never happen – mostly by my father. I had always been told that the law stated, no matter what or who her feelings were directed at, she must marry someone of noble blood. And I knew that they were right. So, though I was her guard, I kept my personal feelings just that. Personal.   
I do my best to keep my emotions hidden under my cheerful, witty exterior; and to the best of my knowledge, I succeed. If anyone has noticed, they have not said anything to me, to her, or to the king. Because the truth is, I am in love with the Princess of Cloister. I am in love with Isabelle. I don’t know when or how it happened, it just did. And, since I cannot show it any other way, I do my best to keep her safe. Not only that; but Jack – the man whom she loves – has become a dear friend to me. He saved my life, he saved Cloister, and though at first I had been dubious about his innocent wide-eyed view on the world, I now find it rather endearing.   
At first, I had thought nothing of his admiration of her. It was to be expected! But it was not until our ill-fated adventure with the giants, when Isabelle had embraced Jack after killing his second giant…I can still remember how my smile had faded. Their awkward looks. The sinking sensation in my gut. But, she adores him, and that is what matters. Besides, even if my feelings were returned, the king would frown on such a relationship. I am the princesses senior by twelve years. She is in her eighteenth year, while I have just reached my thirtieth. While such unions are allowed within royal families – I mean look at her previous fiancé – he was nearly fifty; because of my station it is different.   
So, I protect them. I protect her, as best I can. I tell myself to banish such thoughts from my mind, but it is often to little avail. When I am alone, my thoughts wander to the smallest glances she has given me, the smiles, the cheerful banter. The memory of her embrace – when she had hugged me at the top of the beanstalk, in that giants purgatory – haunts me. The feeling of her small frame pressed up to mine, her slender arms wrapped tightly around my neck, how it had felt to put my own arms around her. The faint scent of wild-flowers and rain that always clings to her –  
No, stop it, I tell myself sternly. Wining won’t help you, Elmont. You are a Kings Guardian. You are higher, and better than this. Grow up.   
Despite my stern warnings for myself, when she summons me to her rooms, I cannot contain a jolt of excitement, shaking my head at my foolishness. I nearly sprint the way through the castle as I wend my way to her rooms. I pause, glancing in the wrought-iron mirror that is hung outside her room. I quickly smooth my wild hair down, and raise my fist to knock at her doors.  
But before I can, it swings open, and I am face to face with a startled looking Jack. “Ah, hello Jack,” I automatically greet. My eyes slide down his figure, eyebrows creeping up as I take in his disheveled appearance.   
He grins, fumbling with the top button of his linen shirt. “Good afternoon Elmont. Beautiful day isn’t it? Just wonderful,” He gushes, in a suspiciously good mood. He quickly shoves his messy hair back from his face, brushing by me, and almost skipping down the hall.   
What has him in such a good mood?  
Isabelle looks up from her spot on the couch, a wide smile spreading over her fair features. “Elmont, thank you for coming. Please, come in.”   
I shut the door behind me, gingerly seating myself on the ottoman before her. The Princesses quarters are spacious, with an airy ceiling, and pale curtains fluttering in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Her wide four-poster bed in pushed up against one wall on the opposite side of the room, and couches and various seats are spread throughout the rest.   
“Of course, my lady.” I say, fidgeting with the glove on my right hand. “What has Jack so happy?”  
“That’s…actually why I asked you to come,” She explains, sitting up a little straighter, a faint flush coming into her cheeks. “I count you as one of my dearest friends, Elmont, and therefore you are one of the first to know…that Jack has proposed to me, and I have said yes!” She beams at me, excitement, and joy filling her crystal blue eyes. I stare at her, not sure I had heard her correctly – hoping I had not. “Elmont?” She prods, puzzled. “Are you not…does this news not please you?”  
My breath hitches in my throat. “My lady,” I manage after a few seconds. “That is wonderful!” I force myself to laugh, and her beaming magnifies tenfold. “I am so happy for you, for you both!”  
“Thank you,” She exclaims, a girlish giggle escaping her. She puts her hand on my forearm. “Your support in this means so much. The people will not be so willing to accept our union, the law was just passed that allows royalty to wed with those not of noble blood. And having you stand beside me on this will mean the world, to me and to Jack.” She squeezes my arm. “Look, he crafted this himself,” She murmurs, unconsciously biting her lip as her slim index finger traces the band of a ring on her finger.  
I glance down at it. It is made of plain silver metal, with a tiny, exquisite amethyst set in the center. Such a stone must have cost him a month’s wages, I think wryly. I look up at her; Isabelle’s eyes are lowered, long lashes contrasting with her fair skin. “Beautiful,” I say softly. “The ring, quite lovely.” I hastily add.   
She exhales, unable to wipe the smile from her face. “I just…I cannot believe that father passed that law. You’ve no idea how happy I am, Elmont.”  
I swallow tightly, blinking a little to rid myself of the strange stinging behind my eyeballs. “You will be quite happy with him.”  
“Yes,” She says softly. “I will be.”  
I don’t think I can hold myself back any longer, so I say as cordially as I can, “My lady, I have other affairs to attend to, but…you have my best wishes.” I kiss her hand formally; noting the slight flicker of surprise in her eyes at the gesture, and hastily make my way out of her rooms.  
I don’t know where I am walking; I just know that I am striding at a furious pace, not stopping for anyone or anything. Trying to expend this wild, grief filled energy that fills me. Was I not expecting this? Yes. Why then am I so surprised? Why does this development shock me to the core? Perhaps it was because, through all my insistences that it will never happen, that she cannot love me, perhaps I had retained a tiny flicker of hope that maybe, one day, she could.   
Fool, I tell myself bitterly.


	2. 2

AN: Thanks for the feedback, guys! I really appreciate it! I know my last chapter had spelling errors, and at one point I forgot to finish the sentence. I’m totally scatter brained, and I have mild dyslexia (hence my spelling problems, haha). Looking forward for more feedback/criticisms! Also, poor Elmont. Totally put in the friend zone. (And, I know serious chapter. Elmont is gloomy. I swear it’ll lighten up. Don’t give up hope in me now!)

2  
I allow myself to sink deeper into my mattress. The relaxation feels wrong somehow, prohibited. But of course, it is not. In my years as a Kings Guardian, I had kept myself to a strict schedule. Rising before the sun, taking brief, cold baths, training hard before a small morning meal to keep my energy up, and the rest of the day was spent either around the royal family, or assisting in the training of the other, newer, Guardians. It was not a set task; it was just something that I did to keep myself busy. I rarely let myself stay abed this late.  
Yet, I suppose I cannot let myself lie in bed all day – though my growing depression argues otherwise at the back of my mind. It has been a week since Isabelle has told me of her engagement to Jack. Since then, I have stood by their side when they announced their engagement, been the first to clap of the stunned people of cloister at the news, and been the first to congratulate them publicly. It is hard for me to hate Jack for what he has gained; his wide-eyed wonder that he managed to win her heart, his innocent joy – while not infectious – are endearing. And I do not try to dislike him; I know it will be easier in the future if I begrudge him as little as possible.   
They say that they want their union to happen quickly, and already, the servants and people are a-bustle with early preparations. Invitations are being sent out to neighboring kingdoms, and I hear that Isabelle’s seamstresses are already working on her wedding gown. I have been told that their wedding is to happen in three weeks. Abrupt, certainly, but I suppose if I was to be wed to the princess, I would schedule it as quickly as soon as possible.   
With a stifled groan, I push myself up, and quickly roll out of bed before I succumb to the temptation to flop back down. The sun is well into the sky by now, and below my window in the castle tower, the city is already alive. I wander out onto my small balcony, pressing my palms into the stone railing. I scan the city, almost with affection. Since the giants invasion, it has been rebuilt with shocking speed. Upon hearing our plight, the Vikings from across the seas – remarkable craftsman – had sent four ships of their best men over to assist with the repairs.   
Now, an almost identical palace stands right where the first had been destroyed. Not quite identical though. I can see small, ornate twists, differences. The design is sleeker, everything is slightly more angled, winding, with arched walkways leading from tower to tower; and the roof panes made from a coppery metal. They had done well, and Cloister has been restored to an even more ardent beauty.   
Tearing my mind away from such sentimental thoughts, I turn back inside my quarters. Yawning widely, I pull a rumpled shirt up from its artistic position over the back of a chair that I had thrown it on the previous night before crashing into my bed. I am just about to pull it on, when I hear a rap at my door. I shuffle over the stone floor to the wooden slatted entrance, and pull it open.  
I freeze; one hand on the doorknob, the other on the hem of my shirt. Damn. I wish I had put it on before I had answered the knock. Isabelle stands outside my rooms, eyebrows raised a little in amusement as she eyes my hair that stands on end, and the garment held loosely in my hand.   
“Ah,” I manage blankly. I clear my throat, blushing a little. I quickly yank it over my head, cursing as my head goes through the arm, and likewise, my arm slipping through the neck hole. I right it as quickly as possible, grinning foolishly as I at last emerge from the stupid thing. “Good morning, my lady,” I say, standing back so that she may enter.   
She steps in, a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth. “To be honest, I had thought you would be well-awake by now.”  
“Yes, I…” I wonder if I could put my lethargic gloominess into words. “I felt a little ill,” I lie.   
Concern flits through her eyes. “Shall I send for a healer?”  
“No, no,” I assure hastily. “Not necessary, my lady.”  
I gesture for her to seat herself on the low couch that faces the hearth, and she does. I lower myself gingerly onto the seat next to her. I think with mild amusement how, before my feelings had developed, I could sit next to her without any awkwardness or hesitation on my part. What has love done to me?   
She smiles at me, tucking a strand of her hair back. “Elmont,” She starts, shifting a little in her seat. Isabelle hesitates a little, fingers absently tracing the fine embroidery that is so carefully threaded through the skirt of her silk gown. “Do you…” She stops, almost nervously, looking anywhere but my face. “Do you believe that…that Jack and I are rushing into this? Our…union?” The princess tugs on a stray thread before hastily smoothing it out.   
I frown a little. Yes, I do think they are rushing into it. But then again, I am slightly biased in this matter. “Why do you ask?” I eventually query, leaning forward so that my elbows rest on my knees. I keep my eyes fixed on her.  
Her gaze darts up to meet mine, then away. She clears her throat, flexing and unflexing her left hand. “I know that…many look down upon our marriage – and I know that we scarcely know each other…but we do love each other…” She stops again, staring at the ceiling. “I suppose I am…looking for validation from you. Approval?” She laughs faintly, finally meeting my eyes.   
For a few heart beats, my breath is frozen in my throat as I loose myself in the kaleidoscope of blue and silvery gray sheen of her eyes. They are on me, worry knitting her brows. “My lady, you do not need your guard’s approval in matters of the heart.” I eventually tell her.   
“But I want it,” Isabelle firmly states, flattening her hands out with determination.   
I smile a little, scratching my stubbled chin. “If that is the case, may I speak with total honesty?”  
“I would prefer it to you lying to me,” She responds mildly, lips quirking.   
I don’t smile. Seriously, I start, “To be frank, I do think…that it is a little rushed, yes.” Her eyes flicker, almost in disappointment. I swallow, and push on. “You are going to be wed to this man; do you not believe that,” I pause, searching for the right way to phrase this without letting my own secret out. “You should…know him? I know Jack is an honorable man, my lady, I can vouch for his heart myself, but still,” I stop, fearing I may have gone to far. She does not respond, cheeks flushed with a pale rose color. “If I may ask, why are you making sure that this happens so quickly?”  
She stands, taking a few steps away, and then turning to look back at me. The princess opens her mouth, closes it, and then finally starts, “Elmont,” The word seems to stick on her tongue, and now she is blushing furiously. “I…we feel that it would be best that it happened sooner, rather than later.”  
“If you believe so, why did you ask my opinion at all?” I ask her bluntly, confused, and not eager to hear of their love life.  
“I wanted approval, I suppose.” She starts hotly. “Truth be told, it must happen quickly. We have to get it done.” She adds, almost to herself.   
I stand, and approach her. I look down at her, the pain in my heart multiplying ten-fold as I think about her being forever wed to another man. “Why?” I ask softly. “Isabelle,” I dare to use her name instead of her title. “Why do you feel the need for this haste? Would you rather not be courted in the traditional way?”  
“Of course I would!” She starts passionately. “I love Jack, and he…he wants to court me properly but…we can’t,” She whispers.   
I resist the urge to take her small, delicate hand in my own. “Why?” I ask again.   
She looks up at me, pressing her lips together. “To avoid scandal,” She murmurs. “To avoid father’s wrath…”  
“What do you speak of?”  
Isabelle meets my eyes boldly, cheeks flaming red. “I…I am…with ch-child,” She stumbles over the last word, voice quavering.   
My lips part and I swallow thickly. “W-what?” I manage hoarsely. Instinctively, my eyes dart down to her stomach. “What?”  
“Yes,” She drops back down onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. “I…I cannot let anyone know that…that the child was conceived out of wedlock…father would have Jack’s head. Hence our…hence the nature of our wedding.”  
I cannot bring a coherent thought to my head. I numbly kneel before her, cautiously placing my hand on her shoulder. “Princess…I…” My mind flies back to the day I had first heard of their engagement. Running into Jack coming from her quarters. How disheveled he had been, how he had been re-buttoning his shirt. Come to think of it, she had looked slightly ruffled as well. “Why did you tell me this?” I manage in a faint whisper. The thought of that boy touching her makes my blood boil, and a chilling thought strikes me. “Did he,” I stop, unsure how to phrase such a question. “Did he…force himself on you?” I could have my tongue cut out for asking a lady such a question, but I have to know. I will kill that wretch if he touched her against her will.  
“No!” She cries vehemently. “No, no, no! Not at all, Elmont! If anything, I…” Isabelle stops, looking mortified. “I came for support, I needed to tell someone.” She finishes, sagging down, forehead pressing into my shoulder.  
I tentatively rest my hand on the back of her head. Her hair is almost impossibly fine, and I thread my fingers through the silky strands as I gently stroke her head. The sensation of her warm breath on my neck, and how one of her hands clings to the top of my shirt, twisting in the fabric makes my stomach turn flips. I lightly stroke her arm with my other hand, murmuring faint words of comfort in her ear.   
At last, she pulls away, eyes heavy. “I feel so foolish for even coming,” She confesses, wiping her nose. “I do not know why I did, to be honest.”  
“You know that you can come to me whenever need be,” I tell her earnestly.   
Isabelle smiles tiredly. “You are a true ally, Elmont. Just knowing that I can go to you lightens my heart considerably. Thank you.” She touches my cheek with the tips of her fingers, sending delicious shivers down my back. “I appreciate your friendship.”  
Friendship, I think with a rather bitter note. Seems that is where I am doomed to remain. She stands, and hastily exits. I remain where I am, trying to process the information she had just given me. She is going to…have a child. Isabelle, my innocent charge, is pregnant, and engaged to be married. At just eighteen. I rub my hand over my face, my head starting to ache. Where did I go wrong?  
Will I ever rid myself of this painful loneliness?  
*  
I let my mind wander, not really paying attention to the proceedings. I am in the dining hall, standing slightly behind the king and princess at the head of the table. The nobles of the court are there as well, all seated at the long table, feasting. Their loud laughter, the mesh of voices, it is all a blur to me.  
I carefully watch Isabelle. Her cheeks are flushed with color, eyes sparkling, and I can hear her clear laugh over the din of everyone else. Next to her, Jack is nearly doubled over with laughter – and I get the feeling that the gathered nobles are more amused by him than whatever else they had been. I note the way his arm is lightly draped across the back of her chair, and I look away, exhaling. Stop being so infantile about it, I tell myself sourly. Pining away will not help you.   
My slightly morbid train of thoughts is stopped abruptly by my name being shouted. “Elmont!” I jerk my head up, staring at Jack in surprise. Apparently they are in the middle of making a toast, for all of their glasses are raised. He sobers a little, his young face serious. “Without your help, I would have died…many times over,” He adds offhandedly, drawing another chuckle from the group. “And more importantly, if it were not for you, the princess Isabelle would have also. I may have been the one who killed the giant king, yes,” Jack says jokingly. He waits until their roaring laughter has quieted before finishing, “But to me, and to my lady, you are the hero of the story. To Elmont!”   
Slightly bewildered at his gesture, I bow. “I couldn’t let you have all the glory, now could I?” I can’t resist poking.   
“No, no indeed!” He cries, slurping another drink of wine. “And…I feel that I owe you more than I can ever hope to repay – which is why I felt so hesitant about asking this next favor of you,” He steps forward a little, glass lowering. “But I would be honored if you would consent to be my best man at our wedding.”


End file.
